


I'm Clint

by Lastavica



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship, Beginnings, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Developing Relationship, Friendship, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, Helicarrier (Marvel), Humor, Irrepressible Clint Barton, Light-Hearted, Natasha doesn't have time for this, SHIELD, Sparring, Strike Team Delta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-03 20:13:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lastavica/pseuds/Lastavica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint just want her to call him Clint. (Two shot)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One Shot

"...to complete that operation. Got it, Barton?"

It's Clint.

"Barton?"

Just call me Clint. Please. It's not that hard.

"Clint!"

He looked up. "Yeah?"

"You were spacing out."

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"Did you hear what I said?"

He smiled inwardly.

"Yeah. I did."


	2. Two Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's persistent.

They were at am impasse. Her legs were positioned around his throat, only one move needed to deal out death. On the other hand, He pressed a knife carefully to her jugular vein. An untrained eye would look and see a tangled mess of humanity laying in a pile on that mat. It was anything but.

"Let go." Her tone was serious.

"You first, Romanoff." He said, eye brows raised in satisfaction.

"This is my victory."

"Says who?"

"I could kill you before you broke the skin."

"Prove it."

He figured she could kill him with that glare anyway.

As the argument continued, neither agent moved from their stone-still positions. The only muscles that appeared to be moving at all were from the neck up.

"Dammit Barton." She found this to be childish and very annoying. No matter how indebted she considered herself to be to this man, at moments like this he made himself very difficult to like.

A lightbulb flickered to life in his mind. I'm a genius!

"I'll make you a deal." He offered. His voice was incredibly cheery for a man whose neck was squeezed in a death grip.

"No. Accept that you've lost."

"You're gonna like this, Red."

She'd learned fast enough that she had no choice but to listen to him. He wasn't going to shut up any faster.

"What?" She said with frightening calm.

"You call me Clint, and I'll happily concede."

"Ok, Clint."

"No." He said. "Always."

Her eyes narrowed at him. Such a request served only to confuse her further as to how this clown was a spy at all.

"Fine." She said, as if to a child. "I accept. Now drop the knife."

"It would be my pleasure." He said grinning at her. The knife fell to the mat. She released him and stood up. Clint hopped into standing position. "And thanks for this." He said, flipping the knife in his hand so that the handle was facing toward her. "You're lucky that was there." She said tonelessly as she returned it to its small sheath on her thigh.

"Mm hm." Clint hummed with what she considered an obnoxious smile. "Whatever you say, Natasha." He added with extra emphasis on the use of her first name.

Her expression was of total indifference which, Clint had learned, meant that she would like to physically harm him.

"I think we can call that a day. What do you think?"

"Yes. I'm tired of negotiating death blows."

"Oh. You make it sound so offensive."

"Are we training or is this game?"

"Well, it's about the same for young animals. ...Lion cubs for instance."

"We're not lion cubs, Clint." Her tone finally colored with exasperation. And, she said 'Clint'.

"Thank you, Agent Romanoff."

Natasha sighed. Barton wasn't listening. "For what?"

"Holding up your end of the deal."

She cocked her head in question as Clint turned toward the locker room.

He was beyond pleased. That was definitely his victory.


End file.
